


A Good Kind of Homework

by littletrenchcoatangel



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 5 + 1, I REFUSE TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS ON THE GROUNDS THAT I'M NOT SURE THEY COUNT, M/M, but i can't remember so you're gonna have to figure it out yourself, either way it works and i hope you enjoy it, i don't even know man, i'm like 99 percent sure this is a human!AU, kind of ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletrenchcoatangel/pseuds/littletrenchcoatangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your mother always told you that it is actions, not words, that matter. </p><p>When the time comes, though, your words are the only things you have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Kind of Homework

**Author's Note:**

> (Or: Five times Stiles said nothing, and the one time he didn’t.)
> 
> Five and one fic featuring things that people have said to me and things I've discovered for myself.

**i.**

You remember the concept of neural pathways from your psych class in sixth grade, how certain music creates A-waves in your brain to help you focus. You can’t really remember much more than that, you just know that if you hear that music, your thoughts suddenly become clearer, easier to get to. (Which, in your case, is probably incredibly helpful.)

You forget what the music is called, the older you get, but when you hear it, you just know.

This is what you tell him on your first official date, when he asks you why you suddenly bring up neural pathways in the middle of dinner after hearing it on the speakers.

What you don’t tell him is that he becomes that music for you.

**ii.**

Eighth grade Biology taught you that the speed of every reaction is determined by a catalyst. (Eighth grade Biology also taught you that your sixth grade psych teacher was really hot, but she’s long gone now.) You only need a small amount, and even if you used more, they do not change the amount of product left at the end.

You remember that enzymes act as catalysts within the human body, working with substrates that complement the shape of them. You recall that enzymes are specific, catalysing only one type of reaction – some enzymes cannot break apart other particles because they are bonded differently.

Years later, on your fifth date, to the museum his sister worked at, you tell him this is how you feel about your father. Nothing – no event, no other enzyme – can break apart the bond you have with him, because you are bonded differently, over the loss of your mother, and become a particle unbreakable by any other enzyme but death itself.

You do not tell him that you are an enzyme yourself, believing him to be the complementing substrate with which you can break apart the units of the world that stand against you.

**iii.**

Grade eleven Hospitality taught you that within a kitchen you have to work as a team. You have to know the location of each member at all times, know what they are doing, what they need. You are to work as a unit (an unbreakable-by-any-enzyme unit) and overcome whatever problems you face.

The teacher reminds you, whenever you happen across her, that it is not just within the kitchen that you have to be aware of other people.

‘ _You must be aware of everything_ ’, she tells you. ‘ _Be aware of each step in the recipe of life._ ’

I can’t follow a recipe, you want to say. ‘ _I can’t cook_ ’, you tell her instead.

‘ _Find someone who can_ ’, she says, as if she knows what you meant. ‘ _Find your secret ingredient_ ’.

‘ _Within this garden there are a million spices._ She tells you to _‘find the one you like best_ ’.

She never tells you to let them in on the secret, though, so you don’t tell him.

Not even on your one-year anniversary when he asks you about the woman who’d approached you and said she liked your choice.

You fail to mention that he’s your favourite spice.

[A year later, when he’s beside you at your father’s funeral, his scent is all that keeps you from disappearing inside your head. Yet you still do not tell him.]

**iv.**

At your graduation, the Valedictorian preaches the importance of loyalty and family within a wolf pack, of understanding pack dynamics.

He speaks about the importance of a pack itself, quotes Rudyard Kipling and says ‘ _the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack_ ’. He says an Alpha needs a mate if they are to keep their pack alive. An Alpha-mate is an important in pack dynamics, as an Alpha-mate is an equal to the Alpha, the Alpha-mate will complement the Alpha (enzymes and substrates, again), have the traits the Alpha does not, as well as many of the same, and create not only the perfect leading parental unit for the rest of the pack, but a terrifying duo that would protect the pack against any threat. They would be at all times the most nurturing parents and the most fearsome protectors. The Valedictorian will state the importance of relying on the pack for assistance in any regard and bids you find your Alpha mate.

You remember this for your whole life, and yet you do not mention it to him, even when he asks why you are so interested in the wolves howling far away outside your shared apartment window.

You do not tell him you believe his is your perfect Alpha-mate, or that you hope you are his, as well.

**v.**

In your last year of College, one of your teachers will tell you that instead of remembering all the things you learn in school, you should remember the things that mean something to you. They will make it clear you understand that recurring themes within your mind are like the neural pathways within your brain – there is only one reason they are a constant presence, and that reason is what keeps those connections.

They will tell you that it is important for you to determine the most useful and important parts of your life, determine what reason it is that your neural pathways are still connected, and that you should carry that on throughout your existence to better enjoy your experience.

The last homework you ever get is to study what you have heard and determine what you should revisit again when you finally leave school – for good, this time.

All at once it comes rushing back to you - the music, the enzymes, the recipes, the wolves. You suddenly understand why it’s a recurring theme throughout your life. Why he is a recurring theme throughout your life.

Yet you still do not tell him. Not even on your wedding day, where you swear by your heart to keep nothing from him and love him ‘til the day you die.

You do not tell him he is your reason.

**vi.**

The day comes when you are left without time to do your homework.

You are lying in a hospital bed – you remember once, you told your father that this was lying (reclining your body in a horizontal position, not leaving the truth untold) – and he is at your side. Honestly you thought he’d be the first to die – a gruesome thought, but nonetheless true.

He clasps one of your frail hands between both of his own and there are tears on his cheeks.

You can feel your last breaths welling up inside you and you waste one – only one, no more, there are none to spare – on a cough, before telling him everything. He will not understand, but you will tell him anyway. You will not leave him without him knowing.

‘ _You are my reason_ ’, you say. ‘ _You are my Alpha-mate, my secret ingredient, my complementing substrate, my A-wave-creating music_ ’.

For the third time in your life, you will see his heart in his eyes. (The first was when you said you loved him, the second on your wedding night, the third the instant you finally spoke.) More tears will fall from his eyes, and your final breath will force itself out of your lungs (You don’t find it unfair that he still has control. He deserves it more than you.), but not before you can tell him one last thing. (You’ve spent your whole life talking. You’ll be damned if you don’t die doing it.)

‘ _I love you_ ’, is the last thing you say.

(You want to stay. Why can’t you just _stay_.)

And the last thing you hear is ‘ _and I, you_ ’.

**Author's Note:**

> it's funny because the summary actually works
> 
> both with the fic and the notes at the start
> 
> how bout that
> 
> additional note of additionalness: apparently a lot of my everything right now is derek/stiles, but rest assured, there will eventually be some destiel up in here. and maybe some 00Q. because i am nothing if not an anti-capital-letter-using multi-shipper.
> 
> additional additional note of additionalness: i like feedback. whether it be comments or kudos or bookmarks or subscriptions or whatever else you can do on this site, i'm up for it. positive or negative i don't even care. tell me what you think.
> 
> also i am not against being given prompts or ideas of any kind, although i've gotta say that writing the sexy tiems is not something i'm good at. though i've never really tried.


End file.
